


Bit by Bit; Piece by Piece

by Bates



Series: Otp fic-a-month challenge 2015 [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (more explanation on tags in note), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Episode: s03e11 Mystery Spot, Episode: s05e19 Hammer of the Gods, Fallen Angel Gabriel, Fallen Gabriel, Human Gabriel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, PTSD, Slow Burn, Unresolved Romantic Tension, catatonic state, meteor shower, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-23 01:36:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4858211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bates/pseuds/Bates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Gabriel falls and lands up on the bunker steps, he's comatose. Barely responsive and bleeding so much it looks like a slaughter. Sam takes care of him, refreshes his bandages every night and practically watches as Dean and Castiel pick up where he had to leave off in hunting. Keeping Gabriel alive becomes his mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bit by Bit; Piece by Piece

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for the July spnotp-fic_a_month challenge. ~~Can you tell how behind I am on almost all of my writing.~~ The theme for this month was History.  
>  Title for this fic is from the song This Bed by Horse Feathers.
> 
> This fic is tagged with canon compliant even though some elements do clearly deviate from what has been presented canon. It should follow the storylines of what happened until about season eight/season nine. In this fic, Sam and Gabriel are living together in the bunker after Gabriel fell.  
> Their relationship can be flagged as unhealthy. Seeing Gabriel in the bunker will set of what starts for Sam as the recovery from PTSD (or Post-Traumantic Stress Disorder) and at first, cause a lot of mental problems for him. This is mentioned in the fic and their relationship _will_ progress further than that. Sam gets professional help and does get past the flashbacks. Him getting better (partially with cooperation from Gabriel) does not take away from the fact that for Sam it is a relationship/friendship that isn't beneficial to his situation. Be careful when reading if this makes you uncomfortable.  
>  This is why I have the 'unhealthy relationship' tag in place.
> 
> Another thing that I would like to mention that partially this fic was inspired by [The Way Back](http://archiveofourown.org/works/488010) written by rainylemons. The way they described the catatonic state that holds their grip on Sam was a very interesting take. I wrote Gabriel's state to be smiliar for a portion of the fic, but with my own little twist.

_“The dead walk and haunt and crawl into your bed at night;_ _Ghosts sneak into your head when you’re not looking.  
_ _Stars line up and volcanoes birth out bits of glass that foretell the future._

_Poison berries make girls stronger, but sometimes kill them. If you howl at the moon and swear on your blood, anything you desire will be yours.  
Be careful what you wish for. There’s always a catch.“_

**Laurie Halse Anderson ; ** _wintergirls_

 

 

 

**»»-------------¤-------------««**

 

 

Sam didn’t know how it had come to this, how they had come to be in such a comfortable moment in their relationship. It was such a big contrast to how they'd met, how they'd first become friends. He’d hated Gabriel’s guts at first. Just the sight of him had made his stomach churn and send the taste of bile to his mouth. With Gabriel came the memories of seeing his brother bleed out under a car. With Gabriel came the sensation of losing his brother again, not just once but over a hundred times.

It was the makings of PTSD and Sam knew it. Living with the person that triggered the flashbacks had at first broken him. Every day he'd relive part of what he had been through, part of what he had felt when his brother was taken from him. Dean worried for him those first weeks, as Sam was faced with flashbacks that sometimes had him disassociating for hours, pulled him out of the headspace that he  _needed_  to be in.

Gabriel was nothing but a broken mess on a hospital room bed when they first saw each other and still he'd felt the need to hide Dean away and lock himself in a room as well, far away from him. At first he wanted nothing to do with the broken bleeding former angel that had fallen and was crashing,  _hard_. Old wounds were being reopened each time that Sam was forced (mainly by himself and his stupid pride) to attend to the other man's wounds or redress his bandages. New memories resurfaced each time that he washed the unconscious former angel’s hair or held him while Dean tried to get him to eat more than a few bites.

 

Sam remembered vaguely now, how he had been in the end of Gabriel’s manipulation. He would see the car coming from a far, hear the squealing of tires and the dull thud that meant that his brother’s body had hit the pavement and he wouldn’t get up anymore. Sam had become numb to losing his brother, to seeing him lying in his arms with blood gashing out of his wounds. He didn’t feel grief or sadness, not even panic as he held Dean’s body all those times.

It almost felt as if Gabriel was preparing yet another angel soldier, even though Sam knew that Gabriel had never been a tutor up in heaven. It was what it felt like, as if Sam was a soldier being prepared for battle. He needed to get used to the killing and seeing people dead. He needed to disassociate. Even if this time, it wasn’t just a random person or a monster. Even if it was Dean, the only family member that he had left.

He guessed that the way that Gabriel taught him to be strong was similar to the way that Castiel had been trained to kill the duplicates of Dean. Naomi had attempted to rewire Castiel, to get him to mercilessly murder and attack Dean without doubt, without pausing. Each time that Sam remember how hard she had worked to get Castiel reprogrammed, he felt both a bitter sadness and pity. Even after all of that, she hadn’t been able to get Castiel to kill him.

It made him wonder why it hadn’t worked with Castiel when it had almost gone so easily with Sam. Maybe because of the fact that Gabriel had never made _him_ kill his brother, because had only watched and there had been nothing that he could actually do about it.

 

What hit him the hardest were the nightmares that crept back in his brain like little spiders. He'd wake up at three am with sweat pooling in the cavities of his body and the nightmare on his mind. Sam saw the images for the rest of the day, like a ghost that haunted him and haunted him until he was too exhausted and just gave into the sleep that was tugging on the edges of his vision. It  _almost_  felt like Lucifer all over again. Almost felt like he went through the haunting of his most innermost thoughts and his nervous system.

It sure was what the flashbacks did to him. He'd be a barely functioning mess for a solid hour or three each time that he unwrapped Gabriel's bandages and saw the dull ochre dried blood clinging to the dressing, together with pus in some places.  Dean often had to help him snap out of it, sit him down and promise him over and over again that he was fine, Gabriel was not a trickster but a regular human that couldn’t even kill a fly with just how much strength he had in his muscles and Dean wouldn’t die. Not again.

It helped, Dean saying the words over and over until they became a mantra that he repeated inside his mind, but it was never enough. In a way, as Gabriel got better Sam too got over him. The situation he was living in was in a way cathartic, it forced him to relive his fears and work his way through them. With the help of a psychiatrist that had turned his back on his job a while ago and gotten into hunting, he got past them.

The nightmares slowly disappeared and attending to the now a little more stable Gabriel’s needs wasn’t such a chore anymore. It came with a price, came with taking pills and getting more stable, but it helped. It helped a lot in fact. It took him the better of eight months before he could say that he was completely fine, that hanging around the now mobile Gabriel didn’t trigger _anything_ in him but worry. Sam felt drained most rougher days and on the good days, he still had a hollowness in his chest that wouldn’t go away, but it was better than he had felt in the past twenty years and he was glad.  

 

If anything, working with the psychiatrist and getting some insights in what had happened the past few years. Sam had only realized while battling with the demons that Gabriel had planted in his brain that his mind was like a Jenga tower build by engineering students; it was sturdy as it stood and as long as you didn’t touch it, it wouldn’t fall. Only the slightest bit of wind and everything  would come crumbling down.

He realized that the trickster had only wanted to teach him that he was too dependent on his brother, that he had to learn to live without him. Dean wouldn’t always be there for him, there would be a day that he’d look over to his side and there would be no one there. Gabriel had wanted to teach him that if he lost Dean and freaked out, he no longer had a backup. There was no one there that he could fall back on.

But the realisation didn’t quite bring peace with it. He still had rage flowing through his veins whenever he thought of those months that he thought his brother had passed when he so clearly hadn’t. Each day passing and not progressing back then had fucked him up pretty majorly even if he didn’t really admit to it back then. Sam’s battle wounds hadn’t shown for such a long time, had only popped up _after_ battling Lucifer and being okay again.

He blamed Gabriel too much to like him, to really care for him with the whole of his heart.

**»»-------------¤-------------««**

 

The angel returned to his body and spoke for the first time a solid year after coming into their care. Sam was doing well again, was stable again, had even gotten in the habit of spending more time with Gabriel than perhaps he was comfortable with. Both Dean and he had figured that having friendly faces around would help him feel safer, would lure him back. Even Castiel had backed the statement, had said that it could be a good idea.

Gabriel had done better for a while when Castiel lived with them in the bunker. At least until Dean and Cas picked up hunts again and were gone more often than they were there. All efforts that they had put into luring him out of his shell seemed wasted each time that the security faltered again. Castiel and Dean left and slowly but steadily, Gabriel would get worse again.

Sam clearly remembered how he’d walked into his room that day with the soup he’d made on a serving tray and Gabriel’s daily dose of vitamins and Gabriel for the first time in a long while made an effort to do something himself. He’d waited patiently as Gabriel took the pills and put them in his own mouth, swallowed them down with the water that Sam put to his lips.

Gabriel had eaten in complete silence, Sam offering him the food forkful by forkful. Giving him too much too soon would lead in his stomach protesting and Sam cleaning the room yet again. In the past months, he’d gotten used to cleaning it all up without a second glance, but he still didn’t like it. It had become almost like a ritual; Sam would offer him a little bit of food and Gabriel would chew, swallow and await the next fork. Every five or six times, he’d get a few swallows of water to make the food go down easier and prevent dehydration.

Some days, when Sam hadn’t had a nightmare or the day was just a good one, he’d talk to him a little; tell him about the day and what Dean and Castiel were up to. He’d feel a little less lonely being practically alone and part of him hoped that doing it would help even a little bit.

Sam had been about to leave when he said spoken that day. The food had practically been left uneaten – not surprising considering that he’d probably gone a bit too healthy for Gabriel’s tastes – but the juice had been finished. He was making a note to himself to maybe get some snacks upstairs later so he could at least get some nutrients and energy that way when he’d coughed twice. Sam had turned around, almost surprised and when their eyes met, Gabriel had opened his mouth and started to speak, tried to twice without sound coming out.

“I’m sorry, Sam.” He could still hear the words ringing in his ears. He could have said anything, anything to let him know that he was still in there and that he was doing okay and yet he apologized. Sam knew that it wasn’t just apologising for forcing them to take care of him, but for everything.

“Don’t worry. It’s okay.” It was all that Sam could say. 

 »»-------------¤-------------««

 

Sam didn’t quite know how things came to be afterwards. How the nightmares of seeing Dean murdered by Gabriel turned into Gabriel being killed. He’d wake up in the middle of the night with tears in his eyes and a gaping feeling in his chest each time he relived the events of that hotel. Each time he saw the outline of shadows around his body, it stung.

It was hypocritical of him to feel bad about the dreams when he hadn’t felt it when he hadn’t felt bad in real life. He’d felt the weird pang of sadness back then, along with a guilty sense of relief. The archangel had shown them that he could protect them, had shown that he cared a little bit more than he made it out to be. Had even ‘outed’ himself as not being Loki in a room filled with Norse Gods, partially to help them get out. The Winchesters had both owed him and Sam felt partial sorrow over how they’d repaid him. They’d let him die and left him. It was their payment for both the harm and help the angel had offered them.

Dean had ridiculed him for having the nightmares at first, for sometimes waking up at night and having to bite back a scream because it had all been so vivid again. It wasn’t as bad as the nightmares about losing Dean had been, but it still felt like it was all the same thing and he just couldn’t get a break.

 

The nightmares kept coming even though Gabriel made more and more improvements each day. Each day, he was more conscious and more aware. It made the nights upon nights of staying in the bunker practically alone feel a little less alone. Gabriel had stories to tell and Sam would listen, glad to hear the angel talking again, even if he had to stop for breath more often and even if he still coughed up some mucus and blood from time to time.

The stories were those of the waking of the universe, of the way the world was crafted by God and how humans were crafted. Sam soaked up the information like a sponge, sometimes falling asleep in the rocking chair next to his bed halfway during Gabriel talking.

He didn’t mean to, but the days were long and dragging when he was practically alone. Whenever there was no one to support him around, the nightmares seemed to last longer and have more effect on him. Castiel and Dean were gone too often to really offer friendship and companionship those days and couldn’t wake him up mid nightmare. 

Gabriel couldn’t either, having barely enough muscle strength to sit up in his bed for more than an hour. It was getting better and Sam realized that, but it didn’t mean that he could come all the way to his room and wake him up.

 

 »»-------------¤-------------««

 

After a year and a half, Gabriel pulled him in for a tentative hug for the very first time. Their interactions had always been sort of clipped, both of them had been hooded about it. Gabriel told his stories but something about it always made Sam think that he was hiding things. There always seemed to be part of him that didn’t quite feel comfortable telling everything about what happened.

It was okay, Sam was reserved around him as well. Physically, it was almost impossible to be shy. He’d bound too many wounds, had bathed the other man too many times not to be familiar with his body and the way it would move. It was different now that the person behind it would actually move and not just lay limp, but there was still was that feeling of familiarity.

“What was that for?” Sam asked him, eyebrows raised slightly. It wasn’t that he hadn’t appreciated the hug, it was out of the blue. It was strange. Gabriel just shrugged, as if didn’t quite know either. From the look in his eyes, Sam thought that it might be the truth. He tried to suppress his smile, but failed. “Gabriel, how do you feel about a tiny adventure?”

 

The snow outside had almost completely melted, leaving the leaves crisping and the ground frozen. It was beautiful really, as beautiful as it could be after the mush that the snow had left. Sam hadn’t quite left the bunker in a while, too preoccupied with keeping their patient safe and healthy while doing research to really put himself first.  
Gabriel had become a sort of steady form of therapy for him. Sam had only realized it after their psychiatrist/hunter friend had pointed it out to him. He was okay with it. It was all that he could be. The former angel still needed a lot of care and was physically still dependent on them in a lot of ways. His intelligence hadn’t been harmed in the fall; he could speak and think without problems, see the logic behind things. If you told him anything he would remember it later and even the memories of before his fall were clear in his mind.

The only problem was that Gabriel’s body wasn’t quite up to speed with it. They each had their own theories on why this was; Castiel thought that it was just because his vessel had been damaged in the fall and that he perhaps wouldn’t quite recover, Dean thought that Gabriel’s vessel had gotten tired and this was him recovering and Sam, Sam didn’t quite know what to think. His mind jumped back and forth on theories as he saw new things happen.

In many prospects, Sam was like a scientist. He formed hypothesises and checked if they were validated in real life. He’d thought a lot of things in the past. At first, he’d been sure that they were nursing a soon to be corpse, nothing but an empty shell. He’d thought that for a long while, until Gabriel had gotten a little bit more responsive. He’d changed his mind after that but had always floated in the ‘I don’t know and I don’t know if I want to know’ territory.

Now, he was quite sure that Gabriel wasn’t damaged, but that his body was still getting used to not running on grace. For a long time, there had still been slivers of grace running through it. Castiel had told him as much, that he could still recognize the being that Gabriel had been for a very long time. Sam was sure that the comatose state was caused by the shock of losing its fuel. Now, his body was being restarted on calories, blood and oxygen. All different forms of energy.

“Where are we going?” Gabriel was sitting next to him in the car, even though Sam had wanted him to sit in the back. It was easier to get him in the front, sure, but the back would be more comfortable for him. At least in the back, it wouldn’t be so obvious how much holding himself up still hurt and how it still tired him.

“The museum,” he shrugged, “I didn't quite think it through before deciding on leaving. Is there some place you want to go?” There had to be so many places that Gabriel wanted to check out, see with his now human eyes. “I just thought that it would be nice to get you out of the house.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel sighed. “It sounds good. Thank you.”

“Don't thank me yet,” Sam grinned, “there is two hours in the car with me and my terrible music waiting for you.” Gabriel smiled at him, the kind of warm smile that Sam had missed. Not really Gabriel's, but from anyone. It had been so long since anyone had really been a friend to him.

 

Gabriel and he spend the entire day looking at paintings and sitting in cafés, sipping coffee while talking about the most unimportant things. Sam did notice that Gabriel was getting more and more tired as time progressed, but chose to ignore it. If he made a big deal out of it, Gabriel would only be annoyed with him and it could possibly bring them back to square one. Their friendship had progressed the past few weeks and months and Sam was scared that it was still too fragile. It wasn't that he would be upset if Gabriel would get better and say _adios, I'm gone,_ but at this moment, the trust was still important.

 The trust meant that Gabriel would be comfortable saying when he was in pain and when he needed help. The dangerous part behind it was that if he shouldn't do that, that it could be that they'd allow him to slip back into his coma. If he hid the aches and places that started to hurt again, they might lose him again. While Sam probably wouldn't have been heartbroken should the angel have passed away before regaining consciousness, he would be now.

Part of him was worried because of that, because of that happening. He couldn't afford to start feeling stuff for the former angel. If he started to feel what he _thought_ it was, it meant that things would get bad again. Sam felt like he was uncapable of keeping anyone he had a relationship with close to him. Each time stuff happened and they took the fall for it, not him. Everybody always slipped out of his fingers for different reasons: death, being freaked out by the hunting or just getting tired of him and his instability. Gabriel wasn't even interested in him that way, Sam _knew_ that.

Sam wasn't quite interested in Gabriel that way either, he thought. It was weird territory for him, it always took him a while to realize what he felt. It was one of the things he'd found was most annoying about being demi: he was never quite sure what he was feeling. At least, to him it felt like he was never sure He didn't know if it was just some weird thing his brain had decided or if it was part of him being that way.

 

Gabriel was sleeping in the passenger seat by the time that they got back to the bunker. The snow had started to fall again, the temperatures dropping below zero yet again. This winter hadn't been kind to them so far, with biting cold and more snow than the previous years. Sam didn't quite mind it all that much – maybe they’d have a white Christmas for a change – it was just not as convenient for them.

Usually, during the winter they would do less hunting and remain stationary for a little longer. The snow made the roads dangerous and neither of them had wanted to wrap the car around a tree because it slipped on the ice. Both of them had been too near to death too many times to risk something like that.

Sam carried Gabe inside. The other man was completely out of it, just hanging there asleep, his head resting against his shoulders. Because the other man had lost so much weight in the past year that it was almost like carrying feathers in his arms. The physical therapy that Dean and he had set up was helping, Gabriel was getting stronger and rebuilding more muscle, but it didn’t quite seem to be enough.

“Come on,” he sighed as Gabriel clung onto him a little tighter when he set him down. “You need to go to bed Gabe. Let me go.” It was almost like putting a stubborn toddler to bed. “Please?” It was after that that Gabriel let go and curled up on the bed. He scooted until he was completely covered by the duvet. “Goodnight Gabe.”

“Night Sam,” he muttered sleepily before drifting of completely again. It was almost adorable.

Dean and Cas had come back from whatever hunt they’d been on while Gabriel and he had been out. Sam had barely seen a glimpse of the car before carrying Gabriel in. It was mainly why it took him as a surprise when he walked into the study to read a little or sit by the hearth and warm up and he wasn’t alone in the room.

Castiel was standing by one of the bookshelves, fingers running over the spines even though he’d already memorised all the books that were on there. He looked up when he heard Sam open the door and smiled one of his little smiles.

“I was hoping to see you before you went to bed,” the angel said. “How is he doing?”

“He’s better,” Sam admitted, sitting down in one of the couches. “He’s been doing better for a little bit now.”

“He always does when the two of you get to spend a lot of time together,” Cas mused. “Something about Dean and I seems to upset him more, or stress him out.” There was a short silence. “Or maybe he just likes you more than us. You have been looking out for him a lot the past few weeks.”

“I don’t think that he likes how busy it gets,” Sam shrugged. It was true that whenever his brother and Castiel went out hunting, Gabriel seemed to be a little bit better. He had his own theories about it, but he knew that Dean’s and Cas’s were different. “It’s draining, having to focus on being and looking strong to the two of you. Especially you. He knows that I’ve seen and taken care of him in a state that was worse than how he is now.” He shook his head. After such a good day, he didn’t quite want to talk about something like that. “How was the hunt?”

“Decent. It took longer than your brother wanted, but we killed the werewolf and prevented it from killing one of the girls. I’m not sure how well she’ll pull through, but hopefully she’ll be okay.” Castiel was still pretty new to the profession. Even before this all happened, there had been few hunts that he really went with without another goal in mind. There was nothing for him in helping Dean, there was no reward like an angelic weapon or a tablet.

Sam knew that it had to change a lot in how the angel thought and/or experienced the hunts. It was something that he had wanted to ask the angel about quite a lot of times, but he didn’t have the words for. After all, with all the time that he’d been spending with Dean primarily, but also Gabriel and him, it almost seemed like he had turned his back on heaven.

“I’m glad it went well. Dean went to bed?”

“I forced him to go get his five hours,” Castiel confirmed. “Don’t worry.”

“Good, thanks man. I’m going to clock in as well. Today was exhausting.” Even though Gabriel and he had fun, Sam felt the ache cling to his bones and muscles. It had asked a lot of his muscles to push the wheelchair around all day, even if Gabriel was indeed light as a feather. All the things that they needed to keep Gabriel happy and content weren’t. “You could try it, if you wanted to. Sleep probably doesn’t mean a lot to you angels, but still.”

“Maybe I will, Sam. Good night.”

 

 »»-------------¤-------------««

 

Three weeks after that, Gabriel spend his first entire day out of bed and without the wheelchair. It was a small victory; one that even Gabriel celebrated. They hadn’t done a lot nor had they been out of the bunker for more than an hour, but it was an accomplishment. He’d gone grocery shopping with him and even though Sam had protested, carried some of the bags to the car. The angel was tired, Sam could see it in the way he was half slouched against him on the couch, but still up and not complaining, so that meant that he was good.

Dean and Castiel had decided to stay home for a little longer with the new snow fall and the temperatures dropping. Sam knew however that Dean wanted to give Cas a first real Winchester Christmas, which meant getting crappy presents and staying home for a change.

It also meant starting cooking the day before Christmas. Gabriel and he were watching amusedly how Dean attempted to show Cas the fine details of how to make the stuffing and how to get started on the dough for cookies. Castiel had pulled his nose up at first, shaken his head and blately said ‘ _no_ ’ when Dean had first offered to show him how to do stuff like that.

“ _Oh come on man! This is the first time in ages I have someone to help me cook. We even got to buy the_ fancy _stuff. Please Cas? I need a kitchen helper and Sam sucks._ ” It had gotten Dean a kick in the shin from Sam and a pulled a laugh out of Gabriel, but on Cas, it had less effect. Castiel just frowned at him.

“ _But why would you need help making stuffing already_?” Dean had just rolled his eyes and pulled the angel into the kitchen by his tie. Sam had to admit that Gabriel and he laughed for a solid minute as Dean passed Castiel an apron to wear so he wouldn’t get the stuff on his dress shirt.

Now, they had progressed on to the cookies. The stuffing had been put in a bowl and put in the fridge until the next day, ready to soak up enough flavor. Or something like that. Cooking had always been more Dean’s field of expertise. Sure, Sam could cook and the things he made weren’t that bad, but he didn’t get any satisfaction from it. Dean however _did_.  Sam was more than content to have Castiel be Dean’s little slave while working on their food. Maybe this year, he wouldn’t even have to do the dishes.

Gabriel and he had decorated the bunker the previous day. Gabriel had done more bossing around and telling Sam where to put stuff and where _not_ to put stuff, but it had been fun regardless. They’d sang along to some sappy Christmas songs together: he’d started them all but by the second time they listened to the album, Gabriel had caught on and was singing along from his spot on the couch.

 

It was oddly domestic having more people around and Sam didn’t quite mind. At least they had a reason now, to do things right and to have more fun. Previous years it had just been the two of them and getting the place fancy had never been a priority. How could it be, when there was quite literally no one else but the two of them?

Now, Sam had a reason to go into town and get some _actual_ Christmas presents. At least this year, he could use some of the money that he had set aside a while ago. Usually, Sam wasn't able to get some money through not working the way that Dean could. Dean was good at hustling pool and getting extra money without actually working for it. Sam wasn't, not the way that Dean was.

He'd put some money aside a long while ago, before all of this even started. Gabriel hadn’t shown up at their door covered in blood yet and things hadn’t completely gone to shit. He’d gotten the money through actual work for a change. Living in the bunker for a little over a year now had given Sam a chance to get a part time job. Even _if_ they had been away long enough for the place to fire him, he’d gotten some money put aside.

He had planned on using the money for Christmas presents the previous year, but Gabriel arriving had stopped them from really celebrating. They’d been too busy putting new bandages on his wounds and keeping him alive. Sam knew that Castiel and Dean had sort of celebrated. He’d seen the cups of their hot chocolate in the study. There had been a cup waiting for him too, but he hadn’t quite drunken it. He hadn’t been that hungry.

 

On Christmas Day, Sam actually slept in for a change. It was weird not to wake up at six am and have to get up because Gabriel needed help with something or because there was a major thing happening in the world. It was always something that needed him, but this time, he didn't. Waking up with the sun shining through the blinds was disorienting, made him squint.

There were voices filtering upstairs; Dean's laughing and another laugh that could only be Castiel's, Gabriel talking back to them and another laugh. It was after another unfamiliar laugh - Gabriel's he assumed - that he decided to go down and check to see what the hell they were doing. He padded downstairs on just his socks, not quite minding the way the cold bit its way up his legs. At least he’d wake up a little bit more. There was a promise of a warm blanket on the couch and a cup of freshly brewed coffee waiting for him. That was, if his nose wasn’t deceiving him.

The kitchen and living room were busy for a change. Dean and Cas were cooking, standing at the counter side by side while spreading the cookie dough over the baking mat. Sam wondered when it had become such a habit that they moved together like an oiled machine, neither in the way of the other's movements. He watched them for a while as he sat down next to Gabriel, took in the flour hand print on Dean's shirt and the batter on Cas's nose.

He'd missed a lot of these things in caring for Gabriel, he realized that. Castiel and Dean had become better friends, were in touch better now. They were so synchronized now, the way that resembled them sort of. It was both weird to see and recognize in their relationship.

Gabriel was grinning at him from his spot on the couch. He was buried under a blanket and still not looking fully recovered, but he was doing better. A flu had nestled itself in the bunker, first striking Gabriel - his immune system was still screwed up - and later Dean and him. Castiel was spared, with his supernatural angel immune system. At least Gabriel had almost kicked it now and he was looking healthier. “Hey Sasquatch.”

“What has got you so happy?” he half grumbled, still too asleep to really be cheerful and actually present. Gabriel even being awake right now was slightly suspicious; the past week he'd always slept in until at least one pm and that was if Sam gave in and woke him up from his slumbers with some food. "What are you even doing up?"

“You make it sound like I’m lazy,” Gabriel said, turning to face him, “and if it’s enough of an answer, they dragged me out of bed to help them bake. They’re the ones that are lazy if you ask me.” He huffed. "They woke me up to help and look at them. They don't even need my help."

“Never said that they weren’t.” It got him a dirty look from Dean, but he chose to ignore it. His brother was always throwing him looks from where he was sitting, it was nothing new. “What’s got you so cheery?”

“It’s Christmas Sam. Christmas. They’re baking. You’re the only one who isn’t excited.” And yeah, that was true.

“Give him a minute, until the cookies are baking.”

 

 »»-------------¤-------------««

 

Christmas felt weird, with everyone there. The bunker felt busy yet empty; there were friends that had come over but the absences of people that _should_ be there felt heavier than the ones that were there. Charlie had arrived a little after Sam had gotten dressed, too many presents in tow. She dropped them all off at the Christmas tree, where Sam's, Dean's and Gabriel's were laying as well. He didn't know when he'd found the time to get them without Sam going with, but he was sure that Castiel had something to do with it. 

Regardless of how off it felt to have them all there, it was good seeing Charlie again. He hated admitting it, but he had really missed the quirky little redhead. She had dropped in a few times over the past couple of months and each time, it had felt like the air wasn't suffocating him. She brought life to the rooms she was in, brought at least  _some_ happiness. The bunker had felt empty, very empty without Dean and Castiel there, with only a comatose Gabriel to keep him company. It had almost driven him crazy some days. But on those days, she'd been there to kick him out and take care of Gabriel for a little bit, or to just hang out a little.

She hadn't quite had the time the past few months, ever since Gabriel was really getting better, but that didn't mean that he wasn't thankful for him. Charlie hugged each of them tight, even allowing Sam to lift her up in the air a little bit. She smiled at each and every one of them, smile faltering a little bit when passing Castiel.

“I thought you were shorter!” was all she said before continuing on to Dean and later to Gabriel. She hugged him a little tighter than the rest, told him that she was glad that he was better now or at least looking a little bit better. Castiel’s bewildered expression was _gold_. Even Dean smiled before hugging Charlie closer and telling her that he had missed her.

 

Neither of them had gotten the chance to really celebrate Christmas in the past few years. Sam distinctly remembered a year where they spend the holiday tied to chairs while the monster (or Pagan God in this case) of the day tried to get a bite out of them – and pulled out one of his fingernails. They had celebrated afterwards, sure, but it didn’t quite feel like Christmas. It never had

In other homes, Christmas was sitting together in warm and silly PJ’s while opening presents and pretending to be shocked when kids got exactly what they’d asked for. It was eating together and telling embarrassing stories. It was coming together with everybody to celebrate that everybody was still happy and healthy, that everybody could be there.

For the Winchesters, Christmas had never felt like Christmas. Even as a kid, Sam remembered how wrong it felt sometimes. How they’d been at the hospital a few Christmases because either his father, Dean or he had gotten themselves caught in a struggle. It was newspaper wrapped gifts from gas stations or stolen out of other people’s houses. Dean had become an expert in stealing by the time that he was fifteen, Sam knew that. Even John had known that his kid stole, but he didn’t care about it too much. John had known that it was only to keep them fed and to keep Sam happy.

As much as their father hadn’t been around and had raised them in the hunter lifestyle, he still cared, he still tried to do their best despite everything. Sam realized that now, now that he was older and had been in the life himself. As a kid and mainly as a teenager as well, he’d never got it. How their father could have left them practically alone.

 

It was fun until night fell and Charlie and Dean went up to go to sleep. Castiel had hung around with them until then, but heaven called on him so he had to go as well. They still had to unwrap the presents that everybody had brought, but had decided upon leaving it until the morning. Everybody had been sated and full, too exhausted and lazy to even move.

Gabriel had looked good. Even though he was sleeping with his head in Sam’s lap at the moment, it was clear that he’d had a good day, that it had been a positive experience. Sam knew for a fact that it had been his first, holiday type experience as a human and that it was unknown territory for him. As much as he’d seen other people celebrate Christmases, it had to be different when you were a human yourself.

The fire was flickering lazily by now. They’d stopped feeding them new wood a little bit ago and the fire was taking the last bits of fuel that it could possibly get from the remaining wood. He should probably wake Gabriel up or carry him to his bed, but Sam was honestly too tired and lazy to get up out of his comfortable position on the couch. Something as simple as sitting down and having someone use him as a pillow – and half hugging his leg -  felt oddly affectionate.

 

Gabriel and he slept until nine am. The house was still quiet and the only reason that Sam had woken up was the cramp in his neck and the shifting of weight. Gabriel had gotten up and was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, clearly not happy with being up already. It was early, Sam had to admit that.

“Morning,” Gabriel grumbled, stretching. He must have kink in his neck as well, from sleeping propped up against Sam. “How late is it?”

“Nine,” he sighed, “coffee?” Gabriel just nodded and fell back against the couch. The little ex angel was grumpy in the mornings, he knew that. It was why the previous day had been such a surprise to Sam. “Here you go grumpy.”

“Shhh.”

 

Charlie popped up around ten am, her hair sticking up in all places but still awake. She didn’t say a lot before plopping at the kitchen table with her coffee and her laptop open on something. Sam didn’t really bother with it as he went upstairs to get dressed and maybe wake Dean up.

They were all waiting to unwrap the presents. Even Castiel was already downstairs, released from heaven’s grips. He had no idea if he had just decided that _screw it, I’m going to the humans_ or if his job had really been over. Judging from the look of the angel, it was the second. He looked worn almost.

He banged on Dean’s door before getting dressed and running back downstairs.

 

 

»»-------------¤-------------««

December turned into January, January turned into February and eventually into March. Gabriel left the bunker again with nothing but a backpack, an ID and some money to get him started. The fallen angel took flight again, as if he was a child that, went out on his own. It was surely how Sam felt seeing him leave, like a parent seeing their child run off to college. Sam rarely got more than a text or a call from him, letting him know where he was and how he was doing.

The answer was always the same. He was in Europe, Australia, back in the USA. He'd seen the world by now, more than Sam would ever see with his own life. He didn't know how he even got the money to finance all of the trips or if he was still getting around in that beat up car they'd bought him. Gabriel was doing fine in every letter or text that Sam received. He always had a mighty smile on his lips in his photographs he sometimes included or postcards he sent. Each time the sun was out, tiny freckles appeared in his face. Sam would sometimes get lost in them.

Some days, it was all that got him through the day. 

**»»-------------¤-------------««**

A year ticked by. It felt more than a few years as Sam's life seemed to be crumbling around him, it went by so incredibly slowly. Recovery was slow; hurting made the time pass by like an hour was a second. Blessed were the days he actually slept. Dean and Castiel took over most of the hunting after an accident with a wendigo left Sam hurt. A stray shot from a police officer and hunter that had joined their fight hit him right in the knee. His knee had already been bad at that point, by a fall a few years prior, but the wound wrecked it completely.

He recovered after a few weeks at the hospital and with some physical therapy. Sam hadn't had the guts to go through with it, the pain too much. Castiel did all he could, but it was almost worthless. Some days were good days, where he could walk a little without even hurting and he didn't need his crutches or his cane. On bad days, even getting out of bed felt like a monumental task and even with his crutches he was practically worthless.

He had moved out of the bunker. The sole task of moving around in it too much for him to handle on most days. His house was small, but everything he needed was on the ground floor, so he didn’t quite need to take the stairs to go anywhere.

There were days when he only made it through because of the pain medicine. Castiel tried to help when he could, but it never worked long enough.

 

**»»-------------¤-------------««**

 

After another six months, there was a sudden knock on the door. It was a bad day, the pain bad enough to make him never want to leave the couch again. He’d already taken more pills than he should, so he really couldn’t afford to take another one.

The knock came again a minute or so later. He yelled that he’d be there in a second, looking for his cane. The stupid thing always fell behind the couch or on the floor, where he couldn’t easily reach it. This was exactly why he’d given Dean a key to the house. Should a monster come knocking, and hurt him, Dean could always come in without picking his lock or wrecking the door.

Sam opened the door only to see Gabriel stand in his door. As far as Sam knew, Gabriel was still sending his letters to the bunker and didn’t even know that he’d moved out. He was sunburned again, shoulders red and probably painful. He’d grown out his beard even.

“Hi Sammy,” he said, grinning before walking in after him. “I’m here to help – take care of you like you did for me.”


End file.
